The Ailing, Failing Captain and His Ever Loyal Second in Command
by Cumberbatch Critter
Summary: "Doctor, you diagnosed the Captain with the common cold?" "Yes, Spock, I did. Now, did you want to dispute that or-" "I do, in fact, Doctor, wish to dispute that. The Captain appears to now have a fever."


**The Ailing, Failing Captain and His Ever Loyal Second in Command**

"What do you mean, I'm not going down there? Of course I'm going down there; I'm the Captain!"

"Jim, your reaction times are down, you're practically falling asleep on shift. What do you want me to do?"

"I _want_ you to let me beam down with the rest of my landing party, Bones; that's what I want you to do!"

"Captain, if I may-"

"No, you may _not_," Jim interrupted. He fixed a frigid glare on the chief medical officer before looking to the chief engineer. "Mr. Scott, energize."

"Scotty- _no_. As the residing medical officer, I forbid it," Bones said. "He's ill and he's not leaving this ship. Now that's it, Jim. Either you come with me to Sickbay voluntarily or I'll be forced to sedate you."

Jim looked between the chief medical officer and his Vulcan first officer. He wanted to argue with them- well, argue with Bones, discuss with Spock- but quite suddenly he was very aware of the fact that he had a pounding headache and hadn't had a good night's rest in over a week.

"Fine," he said, blowing out a breath. "Fine, Bones, you've got me. Mr. Spock-"

"I will conduct the landing party," Spock said. "We will report in on the hour or when we have discovered any facts that deem some importance."

Jim smiled tiredly. "I trust you will relay the important data." He waved a hand dismissively and looked back at McCoy. "Alright, doctor, what do you want with me now?"

"I want you to go to Sickbay with me. I'm going to run a few tests on you and if I find that you're in ship-shape health- which I won't- you can beam down and join your landing party."

"And since I'm so 'ill'," Jim said, the right amount of humour lifting his tone, "I suppose that I'll be confined to quarters after this exam?"

"You'll be lucky if you're confined to quarters," McCoy answered.

Knowing that this meant his chances of being confined to _Sickbay_ were high, Jim sighed. If there was one thing that he did not like, it was being cooped up in a hospital bed when he was meant to be in the Captain's chair.

"You got anything for a headache?" he asked, matching McCoy's pace as they walked down the corridor.

"Yeah, we'll get to that. Headache, fatigue, irritability-"

"I resent that."

"And I'll say it again. You're pale and you've had an unhealthy flush since yesterday afternoon. Now I waited for the negotiations and I waited through the reconnaissance. But I put my foot down on a second scout and that's that."

"I noticed that, Bones. That's why I'm here and Spock's out there," he said, gesturing around the turbolift to signify the planet that they were orbiting.

"You power of observation never ceases to amaze, Captain," Bones said, eyebrows raised. "Come along, Jim. Just a short examination and we'll get a handle on your symptoms."

* * *

"A _cold_? You're kidding me."

"No, I'm not kidding with you, Jim. You've got a cold and that's all there is to it."

"_No one_ gets colds in this century, Bones," Jim argued, rubbing his nose.

Bones was eyeing a hypospray and didn't look up. "It seems like you're trying to bring them back into popularity, then, Jim." He pressed the hypo to Jim's arm and released it.

"What's that?"

"It'll help the headache and the congestion. Two hundred years of medical advances and we still haven't found a way to cure the common cold," McCoy muttered.

"Why, Bones," Jim said, turning his head to smile up at the doctor, "here I was under the false impression that you could cure a rainy day."

McCoy's smile was faint, his eyebrows furrowing a moment later as he glanced back to his charts. It was pointless to try and get through to Bones when he was in full doctor mode. Jim stretched and then let his shoulders slump. The hypospray was helping the headache but nothing was going to help the fatigue except sleep. It was a luxury that he didn't have time for.

"Am I cleared for recon now, doctor?" he asked innocently.

"What?" Bones glanced up. "No. You're going back to your quarters. No, don't argue," he added, when Jim opened his mouth to speak. "You're exhausted and no amount of face-saving behaviour is going to stop me knowing that."

Jim sighed for the umpteenth time. "Whatever you say, Bones. But I'm pretty sure that a cold never kept anyone down in the 21st century."

"Depends on the person," McCoy replied. "Given your past experiences with being sick, I know for a fact that illness _can_ keep you down. And turn you into the whiniest Captain I've ever known," Bones said as he looked up. He was smiling.

Jim was quick to return the teasing sentiment. "Just like you didn't bemoan your existence when you got a case of Andorian pox?" he joked.

"Haven't you ever heard that doctors make the worst patients?"

"Then Captains make the second worst," Jim replied, standing. "I'll try to catch some sleep, Bones. Tell Spock to wake me when he gets back... or if we run into another crisis, like we always seem to do on our down time..."

* * *

"Isn't it _illogical_ to wake him up for something as silly as this? There's nothing to report, Spock. He needs his rest."

"I am merely following Captain's orders. You yourself, Doctor, said that he wished to be awoken upon my re-arrival to the ship. He has been asleep for approximately two point two hours. My report will be brief."

"'Brief' because there's nothing to it. It's pointless, Spock. Tell him later."

"That would be a breach of our Captain's command."

"He's not going to _care_, Spock."

"That is not a topic that is up for debate, Doctor."

Jim squeezed his eyes together tightly before blinking them open. Mr. Spock and Doctor McCoy were standing in the doorway of his own quarters, arguing. (One was arguing, one was discussing, he reminded himself.) "You two make a pretty spectacular wake-up alarm," he said quietly. His voice was hoarse and his throat hurt.

Bones and Spock looked at him immediately. Spock's face held no emotion, as per usual for his Vulcan first officer, but Bones sighed in annoyance.

"Are you happy now, Mr. Spock?" Bones asked, looking back at Spock.

"Happiness is an emotion that I am indifferent to, Doctor." Spock looked at Jim. "The landing party beamed up approximately seven point three minutes ago. Upon closer inspection, we have found-"

"Absolutely nothing," McCoy interrupted. "It's a fine place, Jim. Now will you _please_ tell this insufferable Vulcan-"

"I don't find him insufferable," Jim countered quickly, flashing a grin.

Spock looked at Bones, raised an eyebrow, and looked back at Jim. Before he could speak, Bones stepped between them.

"Alright, enough of undue emotion, as Spock would say," Bones said. "How are you feeling?"

It was a question that Jim had been hoping to avoid. He was still tired, his head was pounding again, and now his throat hurt and his voice hurt. He actually wished that Spock and Bones hadn't woken him up. He wished that Bones would find something else than his health to ponder over. Of course, Bones being Bones, Jim knew that he wouldn't.

"Tired," he admitted. "'s just a cold, Bones. I'm going to be fine."

"A cold?" Spock echoed, tone questioning. "Doctor, you diagnosed the Captain with the common cold?"

"Yes, Spock, I did. Now, did you want to dispute that or-"

Spock interrupted. "I do, in fact, Doctor, wish to dispute that. The Captain appears to now have a fever."

Jim shot Spock a slightly frantic glance. Given the body aches and the inability to find warmth in his usually comfortable quarters, he had had the suspicion... but he had been banking on the fact that Bones wouldn't figure it out. He didn't seem to have brought his tricorder and Jim was sure that he could have downplayed... but, as with common with Mr. Spock, the Vulcan had a knack for stating the obvious, whether beneficial or not.

Spock caught the glance. His eyebrows drew together infinitesimally. "Captain?"

"Fever? Now, Spock, I didn't know you had a PhD in medicine," McCoy muttered, although he pressed his hand to Jim's forehead.

Feeling like he was ten years old again, Jim sighed through his nose. He looked up at Bones and muttered "I'm fine". It seemed to go unheard.

"The issuing of the PhD was terminated in the 22nd century. I, however, do possess several-"

"Jim, you _are_ warm," McCoy said, as though Spock was not speaking.

"Actually, Bones, I'm quite cold," Jim said, shivering as though to prove a point.

McCoy sighed. "And you didn't plan to bring it to my attention."

Jim gave him a smile that stated clearly that he hadn't planned on it at all. He closed his eyes again and huddled down under the blankets.

"I need my tricorder," Bones said. "I'll be back in a minute."

Jim sighed and sat up slightly, leaning back against the headboard. He looked at Spock, who was staring back at him evenly. "So, you really found nothing?"

"Not nothing, Captain. Merely we found what you had ascertained that we would find, in the general region of where we had estimated it to be. As Doctor McCoy stated, the location is ideal for the situation."

Jim nodded. "Good." He turned his head quickly to avoid sneezing all over himself and instead sneezed into the crook of his arm. "Great..."

"Would you like a tissue, Captain?" Spock asked, eyebrow raised.

Jim rubbed his nose. "That might be wise, Mr. Spock."

Spock turned on heel and strode to the bathroom. He was back through the door in less than ten seconds, the box of tissues in hand.

"Thank you," Jim said, a bit dryly, and swiped a tissue from the box to blow his nose. He was in the middle of rubbing it when he noticed that Spock's eyes were locked on him, the Vulcan gaze perhaps a little more inquisitive than usual. "Can I help you, Mr. Spock?"

"That seems unlikely, Captain, as you are the one who is confined to bed rest and I am not," Spock replied immediately, tilting his head only slightly to the side.

"Yes..."

"Is there anything that _you_ require?" Spock asked steadily.

"Let me guess: 'It is the first officer's duty to assist his Captain in whatever way he sees fit'?" Jim asked, the joke evident to him.

The joke, as it were, did not seem evident to Mr. Spock. He replied, simply, "yes".

Jim smiled, genuinely, and pulled his blankets closer. He could have done with an extra blanket, but he would only do that when he knew Bones wouldn't berate him for trying to raise his core temperature or some other doctor's complaint. "No thanks, Mr. Spock. Bones'll see to me. You mind the store."

"The store is going on shore leave, Captain, as were you, until you fell sick. Unless, that is, you wish to cancel shore leave?"

Jim rubbed his nose again. "Why would I cancel shore leave? You and Bones can beam down, I'll take care of my-"

"Illogical, Captain, as I was not partaking in leave. I propose that Doctor McCoy beam down in order to partake in relaxation and rejuvenation while I-"

"Play servant to me?" Jim finished teasingly. "No, Mr. Spock, I'm fine on my own. See to the landing parties and then feel free to go to your own shore leave devices."

"Meditation would be impossible when I obtain the knowledge that the Captain of-"

Spock was cut off by the automatic _whir_ of the doors sliding open. Bones strode back in, medical equipment in hand. Jim sighed and looked back at Spock.

"As you see, I'm in capable hands," he said.

Spock didn't move from his position, expression not changing.

"That was an order, Mr. Spock," Jim added quietly.

Spock looked at him for a moment longer before inclining his head slightly. "Yes, Captain." He turned without another word and walked out.

McCoy looked between the closed doors and Jim. "Trouble in paradise?"

"No, I just- _oh_. That's cold," Jim muttered, looking towards his arm. McCoy had pulled his shirt away from his shoulder and stuck a patch on his upper arm. "What is that?"

"Internal temperature regulator. Leave it there. It'll embed itself in a few minutes." McCoy picked up his tricorder. "Temperature of... thirty seven six. Now how did that green-blooded Vulcan know you had such a low-grade?"

Jim shrugged. The conversation was wearing him out again, much to his intense displeasure. He shuffled himself back into a comfortable position and closed his eyes.

"Go back to sleep, Jim."

"Aye, aye, Doctor," he said, a slight sarcastic smile lifting his lips.

* * *

**The primary function of this story is to elicit an emotion response from the readers due to an undue amount of hurt and comfort in regards to Captain Kirk's health. :) **

**It's going to be most Spock and Kirk interaction. Bones just had to be in here for the first chapter. Look forward to lots of adorable Spirk (romantic or platonic? I leave it purposefully ambiguous for the reader to decide, like the canon) fluff.**

**I do not own _Star Trek_. Thank you! I look forward to your opinions and comments!**


End file.
